


The Side They Don't See

by salmonpapayas



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: And angsty, Angst, Anxiety, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depression, F/F, F/M, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Very depressing, dont read is youre easily triggered by that kind of stuff, im sorry, like seriously, our smol boy peter parker, super fucking angsty, this is gonna be sad, will be hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:07:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salmonpapayas/pseuds/salmonpapayas
Summary: A sort of endgame fix-it, except I think I just make it worse and sadder. (Tony and Natasha Romanoff live, don't ask me how).After the battle at the compound, everything seems fine. Everyone is back, Thanos is gone for good, things are at peace. But a lot can change in five years, and it really shows. After coming back, Peter Parker tries his best to just resume normal life, but he can't. The world moved on without him, and he gets left behind with scars from battles he shouldn't have had to fight.After Tony fighting so hard to bring Peter back, he never even considered that he might not want to come back at all.*currently not updating, who knows about the future
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Loki & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Shuri, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 157
Kudos: 448





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so just as a heads up, this is gonna be really angsty. There will be a lot of hurt, and my smol boi Peter Parker WILL be hurt. Continue if you want, but this is your last warning!

Prologue

Explosions. 

Fire. 

The sound of repulsors.

Screams surrounding him.

Peter’s senses were alight with fury, everything so chaotic on the battlefield. He fell to the ground, momentarily letting go of the gauntlet. He curled up into a fetal position, trying to avoid the loud sounds of explosions surrounding him. 

Even though all of the surrounding chaos, Peter could sense the thrum of the power he held in his arms. The stones felt like they were alive, like they were speaking him. 

Whatever it was, Peter just ignored it. He was focused on more important things, like not dying. Eventually, the gauntlet went to someone else, and Peter felt a weight get lifted off him. But other than that, he barely noticed anything. He was disassociated, acting on instinct and adrenaline. He swung and stabbed and jumped and dodged as fast as he could, while still managing to keep aware of his surrounding instincts.

He eventually got snapped out of his semi-conscious state when he saw Tony. Or, more specifically, when he saw tony facing off against Thanos. He felt panic burst through him, remembering the last time tony faced him. He remembered the look on Tonys face when he was stabbed, and how disappointed he looked when the doctor gave up the time stone.

Almost immediately, Peter started making his way towards Tony and Thanos. Everything in him was screaming run, but he kept going, desperate to make it to them.

Despite all of Peters efforts though, he was helpless as he watched Thanos shove Tony away.

He was helpless as he saw Thanos snap. 

He was helpless as he saw tony lift his arm, infinity stones in his gauntlet.

He was helpless as he saw the stones consume Tony’s arm.

He was helpless as he saw Tony snap, blinded by the light of the stones.

The effect was immediate. All around him, as he ran, Peter saw enemy forces begin crumbling to dust as he had done just an hour before. And then his eyes fell to Thanos himself. He watched as he sat down, almost peacefully. And then he disappeared.

But Peter didn’t care about that. All he could care about was getting to tony, tony, tony, tony, tony, tony, tony…

He arrived second. He went to a stop, with Rhodey standing in front of him. As soon as Rhodey saw Peter, he moved aside, letting him come to a crouch in front of tony. As Peter took him in, his fear doubled. His entire right side was burned black, charred. 

Is this the end?

Peter realized he was crying, begging Tony not to go. He felt as Rhodey pulled him back to let Pepper get through. He aimlessly stumbled back, watching as Pepper spoke. He heard Tonys heartbeat, getting slower and slower.

No no no no no please no not like this no please no

Just then, Doctor Strange arrived, immediately making one of his orange portals. Peter realized that tony looked like he passed out. But he could still hear his breathing.

He focused on that, fixated on the fat that Tonys still alive. He’s still alive. 

As gently he could, the doctor levitated Tony and took him into a hospital room, where doctors were already waiting. Pepper and Rhodey followed, and Peter started forward to go too. But he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the winter soldier look at him.

The soldier just shook his head, but Peter got the message. Family only. 

He also noticed vaguely that someone else also levitated Captain America into the hospital, and then the portal closed. 

And just like that, there was silence. For a single moment, as the dust settled, all the heroes on the field were silent. Almost as if they were paying their respect. 

He’s not dead he’s not dead he’s not dead. 

Peter repeated his mantra over and over as people began to move again. He saw all the main avengers begin to converge. He ran over as he saw hawkeye, the glowing lady, thor, the winter soldier, falcon, and a few other people he didn’t recognize form a loose circle.

They were all looking warily at the sky, and Peter realized that news helicopters were beginning to circle over the compound. 

He briefly heard someone say “We should get out of here”, and couldn’t help but agree.


	2. Returning Not-Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realized when I pasted this into A03 that the italics don't show up for some reason, so sorry about that. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter one- Returning Not-Home

The hours after the battle were a blur. Peter was semi-conscious of the people moving around him. There were a ton of people who were injured, and they needed to figure out a way to get to New York. Along the way, Peter learned that Tony had bought back Stark tower, and he had a hospital there, which was where Strange portaled him to. Peter just managed to think When did he have time to buy the tower? Before his mind spiraled into other things.

Somehow, they managed to all get to the tower. The medical wing was packed full of heroes with varying degrees of injury, and the nurses were all over the place. Eventually, Peter figured that someone had managed to sort everything out, because by the next morning, all the minor injuries had been treated, and the major injuries got their own rooms.

Peter didn’t sleep much that night, but neither did anybody else. The ones who were relatively healthy all sat in the massive waiting room and tried their best to fall asleep in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Peter vaguely remembered a nurse asking if he was okay, but he just waved her off. There was a throbbing ache in his side, but he chose to ignore it.

He also vaguely remembered his adrenaline crash. He dropped into a chair, his muscles giving way all at once. He was half-awake, mostly incoherent and completely out of it.

When the next morning came, he took a few seconds to fully take in his surroundings. The Winter Soldier and the Falcon were sitting close to him, both holding coffees and sitting grimly in silence. He saw Natasha Romanoff whispering to Pepper Potts, who looked distraught. He also noticed what looked like a raccoon talking to… a tree? Okay, that was weird. 

For a few seconds, Peter sat in his chair, unnoticed and just observing everyone. He wondered why everybody’s faces were so grim. And then all of a sudden, the memories came crashing back. The explosions. The gauntlet. Tony lifting his hand and snapping. “I am Iron Man”.

Tony. Oh god, Tony. Is he okay? Is he even still ali- Peter cut himself off, not able to finish the thought. Peter sat completely still in his chair, eyes wide, trying not to think about the possibilities of what might have happened. He stayed like that until Pepper finally noticed he was awake and walked over.

“Hey Peter, I didn’t notice you were awake. How are you doing?” Her face was kind, but Peter could see the bags under her eyes and the concern on her face. God, she must be worried sick…

Peter decided not to burden her, let her focus completely on Tony. “Oh, uh, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.” He stretched in his seat a little, his stiff joints aching in protest. “Uh, hows he…”

The words got stuck in his throat, but Pepper understood what he meant. “Oh, he’s in intensive care right now. The doctors still won’t give me clear answers on anything, but, he’s not doing great.” Despite her calm demeanor, Peter could hear the pain in her voice. “Also, Steve is in surgery right now, but the doctors told us that he’ll probably be fine.”

Peter nodded as she continued to talk, but at that point, he wasn’t really listening. He just kept picturing Tony, lying on the ground with his right side completely charred… the sound of the battle still raging, the shouts and growls and explosions filling his ears.

“Peter?” He snapped back to reality when he heard Pepper say his name. 

“Uh, sorry, what did you say?” She gave him a weird look, almost as if tempted to ask if he was okay. Peter breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t.

“I said do you want me to call your aunt May? I can have her come and pick you up, I’m sure she’s dying to see you after five years…” She trailed off, and Peter felt himself freeze.

“Wait, did you say five years?!” Pepper gave him another weird look, then gave out a small gasp.

“Did no one tell you?” Peter shook his head, urging her to explain. “When Thanos snapped, everyone was gone. Pretty much everyone had lost hope until Scott came along. It’s 2023…” Peter felt his face go cold, processing what she said. She seemed to see what was going on, and she added, “I’m so sorry, I thought you knew.”

Peter felt like his world was tearing apart. Five years! No, it can’t… it can’t have been that long. No, no, no… May… Ned… He felt his breath start to speed up, and he fought to get control of it. He heard Pepper mutter something about getting May, but he couldn’t process what she meant.

Five years…

He had really spent five years… dead. 

Gone. 

Dust.

As the day progressed, the heroes still in the waiting room started talking. After the battle, there was complete destruction. And with all the dusted people suddenly returned, there was chaos, and the world demanded answers.

If it wasn’t bad enough before, world leaders were constantly trying to contact the avengers, or Pepper Potts, trying to figure out how to act in the situation. All the heroes quickly became stressed, and the tension in the room kept building up. 

Five hours after he had woken up, everyone was quietly talking to each other. Except for peter, who sat in the corner of the room by himself. Although he tried his best not to show it, Peter's mind was spiraling with worry as to what Pepper told him. Five years meant that people had grown up, moved on, graduated school, gotten married. It was 2023. He should have been 21 by now. He would have legally been able to drink. 

But all of that was taken away when Thanos decided to attack, to execute his “divine plan”.

After five hours of this, something happened. The door burst open, and May came rushing into the room. “Peter! Oh my god, Peter!”

She reached him in seconds, and immediately pulled him into a warm embrace. He could feel the wetness of her cheeks, and her light sobs as she clutched him. He himself realized that he was crying, an inexplicable burst of emotion surging through him.

AT that moment, Peter also realized that everyone in the room was looking at him, cold sympathy in their eyes. It was as if they had just realized that Peter was still a kid, just barely 16. 

After may was done hugging him, she pulled back and looked at his face. She smiled wetly, and her face filled with love and relief, as well as sadness. In almost a whisper, she said, “Oh baby, I never thought I would see you again. I missed you so much.”

At those words, Peter felt something inside him break. This, this, was the five years he was gone. Even though for him it seemed like yesterday morning was when he last saw May, she had had to suffer through five years without him, not knowing that he would come back.

And it wasn’t just May. It was Tony, too. How much time had they spent grieving him? How much time did they spend missing him? How long did it take for them to try and move on? Did they even try to?

He had burdened them. He struggled to think of what Tony did after he was gone. 

“And if you die, I feel like that’s on me”

How much of Peter’s death did tony blame himself for? 

Peter knew the answer to his questions. Deep down, he knew that he was the cause of May and Tony’s pain in the last five years. This thought disgusted Peter. He had no right to cause them that pain. All he was was a burden to them.

When Peter’s parents died, May had to learn to take care of him. When he got ben killed, May had to work more to support them. When she found out about his alter-ego, she helped him. 

Tony had found him, mentored him. He spent thousands on designing a suit for him and took the time out of his day to teach him. He checked up on him and treated his injuries Peter didn’t deserve them.

While Peter was going down this chain of thoughts, he didn’t notice that May was still holding him, talking to him. He eventually snapped back to reality when she said his name.

For the second time that day, someone looked at him as if they wanted to ask if he was okay. But before May could say anything, Peter cut in, saying “Sorry, zoned out for a second. I’m exhausted from yesterday.”

Her face softened with understanding, and she briefly looked over at the others (who had thankfully looked away). “What do you say we head home? You should get a change of clothes and some food.”

Peter looked at the door that led to the rest of the hospital. “I would, but I don’t wanna leave in case he…” Peter trailed off, not knowing what to say.

May gave him a sympathetic look, and he knew that she was going to try and reason with him. “I know that you want to know everything that’s happening, but you can’t survive without some clothes, food, and proper sleep. Why don’t we just go home for a day or two for you to recover, and then we can come back. I can also ask Pepper to send us updates on him. Would that be okay?”

The last thing she said surprised Peter. Since when was May on a first-name basis with Pepper Potts? Still, he reluctantly agreed to her plan, too exhausted to argue. 

\---

They drove home.

But all the way, Peter felt like he was going to have a panic attack.

Everything looked different. As they drove through Queens, he could pick out everything that had changed. Shops that closed down, new shops. Fewer cars, but more traffic. He didn’t even recognize where they were headed. 

“Uh, May? This isn’t the way home.”

She turned to him for a moment before looking back at the road. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know. A few years back, our old building burned down, and now I’m living in a new place. I know it might be a sudden change, but hey! It’s way closer to midtown than it was before.”

Peter tried not to gag, and he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. Burned down. Just like that, gone. Nothing but ashes.

When they arrived, the building looked significantly better than he expected. “It’s so… nice? How can you afford this?”

May let out a laugh, and they stepped inside. “Boy, you have a lot to catch up on. I got promoted at work, so I now get paid double what I used to, and I don’t have to work as many hours.”

Peter pretended to smile and be excited, but he also just felt empty. What was once his home, where he lived with Ben, was gone. So little had changed, yet it was also so much.

As they stepped into the actual apartment, Peter felt his mood drop further. This wasn’t… home. There wasn’t his or Neds smell leading to his room, there wasn’t the faint sound of the shitty boiler that the building had, there wasn’t any of their old furniture left. It was all gone.

In its place, there were new smells. He could smell a teenager’s deodorant, his smell almost overpowering the place. There was also a trace of what smelled like… baby shampoo? He looked around, confused. May didn’t have any children that he knew of. Where were all the smells coming from?

“Hey May?” She looked over at him. “What’s that smell?”

She sniffed the air, a confused look crossing her face. “Oh, that probably Harleys deodorant, he was staying over for a while. Damn, I forgot about your super senses, I can barely smell it.” She let out a soft laugh and went around the kitchen. 

It was an open floor plan, so he just awkwardly sat on the couch, not knowing where to go.

“May, whos Harley?”

She turned to look at him. “Oh, he’s Tony’s kid. Well, not biologically, but he pretty much could be. After the snap, they got pretty close, I guess. He’s a good kid, probably a couple of years older than you by now. Actually, he’s a lot like you. Smart, good at science and math. I think you would like him”

Peter felt his throat close up. Tonys kid. Tony really did move on. He knew he had no right to be jealous, but he still felt some sort of loss. He thought, before Thanos, that he and Tony had been pretty close. But evidently Tony could easily find someone else. Then he wondered about what May had said. “Wait, May, why would he be staying here then?”

“Oh, well, after the snap, I guess I kind of just started talking to Pepper and Tony more. After you were gone, they were the only adults that I could really talk about you with. After a while, I guess I just became part of their family, y’know? Like a wine aunt to Harley and Morgan.” She let out a small sigh, a smile on her face.

That answer just brought up even more questions. Who the hell was Morgan? Was she another one of Tony’s surrogate children? Also, had May really just… replaced him? With some kids named Harley and Morgan? He felt a weird sense of possession. For so long, it was just May and him against the world, especially after Ben died. But now, she wasn’t just his anymore. She was now also Harley and Morgan’s aunt, even though he had never even met them.

After thinking that, he immediately stopped. God, what was he thinking? He had no right to feel like that. He was gone for five years, of course she moved on. Of course she left him in the past. 

Instead of asking who Morgan was, or voicing any of his other thoughts, lay across the couch. He didn’t really feel like there was much else that he could do. He didn’t know the layout of this apartment, or where any of the rooms were… god. His room was gone. What about all of his stuff? Had it burned too? The thought hit him like a truck, and he felt his breath catch. 

Every second, it felt like more and more was taken away from him. His home, his stuff, even May seemed different. He didn’t even know if Ned and MJ were dusted or not. If they weren’t, then it meant that they already graduated Midtown, and were in college.

He felt his panic rise again, but before he could go into a full-blown panic attack, May spoke again. “God, this is all so sudden. I wish I had time to prepare or something, I have no idea where I’m gonna put you.” She sighed and before Peter could ask what she meant, she continued. “The guest room has a bunch of Harleys stuff right now, and I don’t have the time to clean it. Would it be okay if you slept on the couch for a little while? I just need some time to sort everything out.”

Peter felt a punch of guilt, seeing her stressed face. God, he was such a burden. But, he was quick to reassure her that he would be fine sleeping on the couch and to take all the time she needed. 

Since it was already dark and they were both tired, May decided to skip cooking dinner and they both went to bed. 

With all the lights off, Peter lay on the couch, gazing out of the window and listening to the traffic outside. He tried his best not to think about it, but still, his anxieties all came to him, flooding through his head.

What if Tony didn’t turn out alright? What if he didn’t survive? What if he forgot about Peter? What if Tony and aunt May left him? 

They probably realized how much better their lives were without him. They probably realized that they didn’t need him. They would probably leave him again as soon as they got the chance. 

As he fell asleep, Peter only thought about that. He only thought about how his loved ones would soon grow to hate him and realize how much of a burden he was. As he fell asleep, he fell into his nightmares.


	3. Memories

Chapter two- Memories

At first, Peter couldn’t see. He could only hear, the sound of repulsors and the hum of infinity stones surrounding him.

Then, the world burst into life, the light harsh on his eyes. When he could finally see well, he looked around and realized he was on Titan. Then, before he could think, he was moving, running, and swinging around. He was vaguely aware of his own body, vaguely aware of Tony battling Thanos.

Thanos.

As soon as he remembered, Peter felt a sense of dread go through his spine, the hairs on his arms standing up. But, still moving, he watched as Thanos stabbed Tony, then how Strange gave up the time stone. 

The scene was familiar, but Peter didn’t pay attention to that. He waited, the sense of dread rapidly building up in his stomach. Something was wrong. 

Then, it felt like something had exploded inside of him. His spidey senses went haywire, and his whole body felt like it was on fire. He felt his body trying to fight off whatever was happening to him, but it only made the pain worse. He watched hazily as Star-Lord, the tattooed guy, the insect-lady, and Doctor Strange all turned to dust. 

At first, he thought he imagined it, but after a few seconds, he realized it was real. Then, he looked at his hands. Right in front of him, they were dissolving, and he could feel every single atom on his body get ripped apart. The pain was excruciating, and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. But, he managed to stumble forward, and he felt himself start talking to Tony.

He collapsed into Tony’s arms, and at that moment, he realized he was dying. After this, he would be gone. As soon as that realization hit, he remembered what Tony had said. 

“And if you die, I feel like that’s on me.”

Tony would blame himself for Peter’s death. Immediately, he started apologizing to him. He apologized over and over, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He knew that Tony would blame himself for Peters’s death.

He shouldn’t, Peter thought. He shouldn’t have to be burdened by him. Peter was a nuisance, and Tony didn’t deserve the guilt of his death. If anything, he should just let him d-

Before he could finish his thought, he blacked out, the burning pain finally was gone. But, the blissful silence only lasted for a moment before he was awake again. When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was surrounded by orange. His first thought was that he was still on Titan, but as he took more in, he knew that want the case.

He was on a completely flat plane, and on the ground, there were a couple of inches of water. The sky was orange, stretching around him for miles. In the distance, he could make out a few distant figures and tried to get up and run to them. He immediately collapsed, a burning sensation going through his legs.

Again, he tried to stand, this time slower. His whole body was burning now, but at least he could stand. He slowly started making his way towards the figures and realized that they were headed in his direction too. For a moment, he was wary, thinking they might be hostile. But then he remembered that he had absolutely no idea where he was, and he needed to find someone else.

After a little while, he finally started getting closer to the figures. He could make out at least ten figures and hoped that they could help.

When they finally reached each other, he realized that there were a few people he could recognize. There was Star-Lord, the tattoo guy, Mantis, a green lady, and what looked like a talking tree. He also recognized the Falcon, Winter Soldier, and the Black Panther, Doctor Strange, and another girl who looked like a teenager.

They stepped closer to him, and it must have been apparent that he was scared, because Strange said, “Hey kid, you’re good now. No need to panic.”

As some of the others began to recognize him, they all started talking to him, which left him very confused. The Winter Soldier finally shut them up with a loud shout, and they all quieted. He looked at Peter and said, “Hey, are you the kid from the airport?”

Peter nodded, wary of what he might think of him. 

The soldier breathed out a sigh, frustration mixed with concern. “Damn kid, you pack one hell of a punch. I guess you also got dusted.”

Peter gave him a confused look. What the hell did getting dusted mean? 

The green lady must have sensed his confusion because she stepped forward and asked him, “Did you get all dusty, blackout, then wake up here?”

Peter nodded and remembered his last moments on Titan. The burning pain that his body was in intensified as he remembered the feeling of his body getting ripped apart. ‘Are we dead?”

The question seemed to surprise her, but she quickly recovered. “Not quite. Were in a place between life and death, a sort of purgatory. I think we’re in the soul world, trapped inside the infinity stones.”

Peter pretended to understand what she meant, even though half the words she said sounded like gibberish. It was then that he realized the other people in the group had no idea who he was. “Uh, well, that’s just wonderful. I’m Peter, by the way. Or Spider-man.”

The guy who he recognized as Black Panther looked slightly taken aback. “You are the Spider-man? But you are a child, barely older than Shuri!”

Peter felt his face flush and looked to the other people in the group before he could continue. “And who are you guys?”

Even though he recognized some of the people in the group, he realized he had no idea what their real names were. They stepped forward one by introducing themselves by their real names, along with their superhero counterparts. The green lady, who he now knew was called Gamora, explained to him that he and the other people he met on Titan were called the guardians of the galaxy. He thought to himself that they clearly didn’t do their job very well, but go off.

After all the introductions, Strange and Gamora (who seemed to be the informal leaders of the group) said that they should keep walking. As they began, the teenaged girl, Shuri, approached him. 

“Hey! Your powers are so cool. How do you stick to things? I tried figuring out in my lab, but all I did was glue myself to the ceiling for an hour.” She spoke fast, even with her accent, but Peter was glad for her enthusiasm. 

“Oh, uh, thanks, I think. I actually do it on my own; after I got my powers, I could just stick to stuff.” 

“Woah, no way! That explains so much. How did you get powers? Have you tried figuring out what makes your body stick to things? There’s probably some reason, it’s not just magic.”

Her enthusiasm was almost contagious, and Peter could tell she was smart. But, he also just found out that he had essentially died, and he was still in burning pain. He had no clue what was going on, he didn’t really know any of the people around him, and they were walking for some reason. To say the least, Peter wasn’t in the mood.

He tried to change the subject, asking Shuri where they were going.

“Oh, well, after everyone got dusted and woke up here, we were all kind of spread apart. We all found each other and been going around trying to find more. This place is just an endless plain, so we’re just trying to find as many as we can. Weirdly though, most of the people we find are asleep.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean asleep?”

Shuri frowned, contemplating. “Well, we’re not really sure. Just, most of the time, when we find someone, they’re lying on the ground. They have a pulse, and they’re breathing, but whenever we try to wake them up, they don’t do anything. It’s almost like they’re in a coma.”

\---

Peter didn’t wake up with a start. But when he did wake up, he was sweating, and his body was tingling all over. 

As he sat up on the couch, he realized it was still dark out. When he glanced at the clock, it read 4:30 am. His mind was spinning, the dream he had still played through his head. It was all so vivid, and he couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of deja vu like he’d experienced it before. It somehow felt… almost familiar.

He got up and opened the window. He needed some fresh air, and everyone was to busy to notice a kid climbing up the wall. He made his way to the roof of the apartment and sat on the edge, letting his legs dangle off the side. 

As he thought about the dream, he became more and more confused. There was no way he could know that the Falcons name was Sam, or that the Black Panther had a teenaged sister named Shuri. He just wouldn’t be able to know information like that. He pulled out his phone, trying to see if he could google it, before realizing that it didn’t work anymore.

But still, even without the confirmation from his overlord Google, there was something in the back of his mind telling him that he was right. The dream almost wasn’t a dream. There was no way that he could just imagine up all of that information.

But, if it wasn’t a dream, then that meant that it was real. And then it hit Peter.

A memory.

It was a memory, it had to be. They were talking about getting dusted, Thanos, the stones. 

That was where he went after he died.

He went to that place, the soul world. How had he not realized it before? After he made the realization, the dream became clearer, as if the memory was coming back to him.

Little moments started appearing in his head too. He saw a snipped of Shuri laughing at something he said, a glimpse of Strange shaking his head at something he did. He saw himself sparring with Gamora, or annoying Sam and Bucky. 

He didn’t remember much from the so-called ‘soul world,’ but the memories felt like he was getting something back that he didn’t even realize was missing. He wondered why no one brought it up before. Were other people also just starting to remember? Or was everyone just too busy to talk about it?

Those questions only left Peter more confused, wondering about the time he spent there. A thought hit him, and he struggled to think about what it meant. 

Had he been in there for five years?

It made sense that he would have been. Everyone went there after they got dusted, so he could only assume that they stayed there until Tony snapped everyone back. But still, it unnerved Peter how much time he must have spent in that endless realm. 

He spent the rest of the night on the roof, only going back inside when the sun was peeking over the horizon. He decided to make breakfast for him and May since he figured, if they had some stuff to catch up on, might as well do it over breakfast.

Once May woke up, Peter was done making french toast and omelets.

She walked into the room, smelling the delicious meal. “Hey Peter, what’s all this? Don’t tell me you woke up early to make this, you were supposed to be resting!”

Peter flinched slightly at the disapproving sound in her voice, but she just yawned and sat down at the table.

“Oh, I kind of woke up early, so I just decided to make us some breakfast.”

She ruffled his hair and beamed at him. “Oh, I forgot how sweet you were. Well, I guess we have some catching up to do, huh? Its been five years; I need to tell you whats happened!”

The mention of his five-year absence sent a lurch to his stomach, but he smiled, knowing that May was happy.

They ended up talking for two hours, empty plates from breakfast sitting under them. May spoke about her life in the past five years. She told him all about how he became friends with Tony and Pepper, then grew to love Harley and Morgan. On and on, she talked about what a “great kid Harley was” and how Morgan was “so smart, just like her dad.” 

Even though Peter was happy for her, glad that she had found a family, every mention she made of Tony’s kids made him both angry and sad. On the one hand, he felt anger at the fact that he had missed out on so much of this life, that he was so absent from Tony’s life. He was angry that Harley filled that hole, and that May had become an aunt to someone that wasn’t him. 

But then, he also just felt lonely. He knew that Tony had his perfect family. He had his wife, his kids, Rhodey, even May. But it just wouldn’t have room for him. Tony and May had moved on, left him in the past. And now that he was back, he was just forcing them to bring back old memories of him. He was just burdening them, taking up room that wasn’t his.

The longer the conversation went on, the more awful he felt. The anger, loneliness, and sadness built up inside him. But then another part of him fought those emotions, saying that he had no right to feel like that. He was the one who left, and he couldn’t blame anyone for what they did after. He was just selfish, wanting May and Tony all for himself.

His internal battle went on, and he was relieved when May finally said that she would be going out to get groceries. Peter went to take a shower, trying not to think about his emotions or anything at all.

Once he got in the shower, he looked down and saw a massive bruise on his rib. When he looked closer, he realized he had a nasty cut slicing down his side. He cleaned out the dirt and sweat and saw that it wasn’t too deep. It stung like hell, though, and he was shocked that he didn’t notice it before. He seriously didn’t feel it at all. 

Once he got out, he found May’s first aid kit and dressed the wound. He decided not to tell anybody, figuring they would just fuss over ut too much. He was still puzzled as to how he didn’t notice the pain before because after he realized it was there, its presence was very prominent in his side. 

Peter tried to brush off the pain and then realized that he had nothing to do. He didn’t have a phone, he didn’t know if…. his friends were still the same age as him, he didn’t even recognize the neighborhood he lived in.

His mind began to spiral - again. He thought about Ned and MJ, even Flash. He realized he had no information on what happened to them. For all he knew, they could be in college right now. They could have moved on, found other friends. 

He felt his breaths quicken as he thought of everything. They had probably all moved on, his entire grade probably graduated without him, and now he was alone. 

He was breathing faster now, half-breaths making his head swim. His vision was beginning to blur, and he stumbled to his knees. Panic rose in his chest, and he felt like his throat was closing. 

He immediately thought he was having an asthma attack. His instinct kicked in, and he reached for an inhaler, only to remember that he hadn’t needed one since the spider bite.

Slowly, while lying on the floor, his breathing evened out, and he could see clearly again. The fear and panic that had gripped him earlier subsided, but the lingering feeling of anxiety lingered.

He had no idea what happened, so he just started thinking about Ned and MJ again.

As he went down into the whirlpool of his own thoughts, multiple memories appeared in his head, clear as day. He remembered another snippet from the soul world. He was himself shaking Ned, who looked like he was asleep. Another memory showed him doing the exact same thing, except with MJ. In both memories, they wouldn’t wake up. 

As soon a the memories appeared, his train of thought stopped. If he remembered seeing Ned and MJ in the soul world, even if they were asleep, it meant that they got dusted. It must have. Which said that they didn’t move on!

Peter was overjoyed, knowing that his closest friends were still his age. But, as soon as his excitement came, it vanished. He realized that his friends had died, just like him. Immediately, he felt selfish. He only cared about himself, knowing that he still had friends. MJ and Ned had to leave their families behind and wake up in a whole new world like him.

He groaned and let himself fall onto the couch. He felt exhausted, continually worrying about the snap and having had that weird not-asthma attack. He fell asleep, not realizing that he would see even more of the soul world.


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter thinks about his family. Or rather, the absence of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry I haven't posted in a bit, I've been going through a rough time. I'll try to update more soon, but ill have to wait and see.
> 
> Also, Harley is kind of a dick in this, so sorry Parkner shippers! I'm going to include it later in the story, but that'll take time.
> 
> Also, I have a question: Would you want me to make longer chapters that take longer to write, or keep it normal length and post more frequently? Comment wich one you want, ill help a lot.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 3- Family

“What do we do now?”

Peter felt panic rise in him for what felt like the millionth time. He felt helpless, an impending doom looming over him. He looked around and saw his emotions mirrored in the people around him.

They stood in a semi-circle, with Gamora and Doctor Strange in the middle. They had become the natural leaders of their group, given that they knew the most about their current environment.

To be honest, even after Doctor Strange’s explanation of where they were, Peter still had trouble wrapping his head around everything. Supposedly, they were trapped inside one of the infinity stones, specifically the soul stone.

They were trapped inside a stone, yet they were in an endless orange plane. They were trapped inside a magic rock, and they were surrounded by trillions of the people wiped out by the snap.

And every single one of them was asleep, except for the 11 people standing in this circle.

By now, he was acquainted with everyone. There was T’challa, the king of Wakanda, and Shuri, his little sister. There was Peter Quill, who was a half-human, half-god. There was: Mantis, an insect lady, Drax, an angry alien who took everything literally, Groot, a walking tree, and Gamora, a violent green lady who reminded him of MJ. There was Stephen Strange, who he already met on Titan. And lastly, there was Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Sam was the falcon, and Bucky was a brainwashed ex-assassin for hydra. Both of whom were Captain America’s best friends.

For the first few hours (not that he could really tell the passage of time in the soul stone) after he met everybody, he was in a silent shock. Even though he should have been worried about other things (see: dead), he couldn’t help but freak out over the fact that he was literally walking among some of the biggest heroes in the galaxy. 

But by now, it had been a couple of days, and Peter had gotten over his shock. He came to realize the depth of the situation they were in and the fact that they might not ever be able to make it out of here. And now, the situation had somehow become worse.

After days of walking around and only finding people in a coma-like state, Doctor Strange had finally come to a conclusion.

“They’re not waking up. Nobody is. And, if I’m correct, which I am, it means that we are the only people here left who are awake.” His face was grim, and he waited while everyone processed what he had just said.

They could sense there was more, so they stayed silent and waited for him to continue, their faces grim with a mixture of horror and acceptance.

“If we are indeed the last people awake right now, then it means that we might start to fall asleep as well.”

For a moment, everyone was silent. Peter could tell that they were most likely just trying to understand precisely what that meant. Before they could contemplate too long, Strange explained, “We are in the soul stone. Technically, we’re not supposed to be conscious. In here, everyone asleep has succumbed to the power of the infinity stone. I think that it wants us asleep.”

Nobody had any clue as to what he meant when he said the stone wanted them to be asleep but remained silent. “Somehow, we are all awake. I think it’s because we are among the strongest-minded, and we were all somehow able to overcome the stone. But, the soul stone is incredibly powerful. Over time, that power will chip away at our minds until we can no longer resist it.”

With the way he described it, it was no surprise that everyone was horrified. The idea that they might soon become like the people around them, just mindless bodies lying on the floor, was genuinely terrifying. Peter felt his chest tighten, and his throat close, and his breathing became weaker. As soon as Strange had mentioned it, Peter felt the pressure of the infinity stone pressing on his mind, ever-present, trying to get in.

The world blurred, and he sat down, the hum of people talking falling into the background. He focused on controlling his breathing, trying to quell the panic he felt. 

After a few minutes of sitting down, he was finally able to breathe normally, and he started paying attention to the people around him. Most people didn’t notice his little freak-out, as they were too busy worrying about their own impending doom.

But, one person did notice. Gamora walked over and sat next to him. He hadn’t really talked to her much before and was honestly a little intimidated by her. He stiffened a bit as she looked at him, and she gave him a warm smile. “Hey, are you alright?”

Peter nodded, knowing that his voice would probably betray that he was lying. She looked skeptical but didn’t press. “You know, I arrived here before everybody else. My father, Thanos, he killed me to get the soul stone, and I ended up here. I hate that he won.”

Peter was surprised when she said that Thanos was her father, but decided not to ask. She probably got enough crap for it from other people. He knew that she was trying to divert the conversation from him to make him feel comfortable, and he was grateful. He still didn’t want to talk, so she continued. “I keep thinking that if I just fought harder, I could have stopped this whole mess. I’m the reason that he won.”

Peter couldn’t help but feel immense sympathy for her. He knew where she was coming from and could relate to what she said. He also realized that she was very vulnerable right now. He didn’t know her well, but he knew that probably wasn’t normal for her.

“Uh, thanks for telling me that. I kinda get what you mean, but ill be the first to tell you that this isn’t your fault. All of us had chances to stop Thanos, and even with all of our forces combined, we couldn’t stop him. If you not being able to stop him means that you let him win, then you could say the same for all of us. We all had chances, but we failed. That’s on all of us, not just you.” Peter took a breath, only just realizing what he was saying. He cursed himself, realizing that he just gave her some completely unsolicited advice.

She smiled at him gratefully though, then ruffled his hair. “You’re a smart one. You know, I might even like you more than the other Peter.”

Hearing that, Peter Quill looked up, giving her an indignant look. “Hey! You prefer that kid over me?”

She actually laughed and slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders. He stiffened before forcing himself to relax. “Why, of course, this little squirt is clearly superior.”

Just then, Mantis chimed in, also saying, “I like the child Peter too!” After that, more people added comments about him, and Peter just laughed, looking at the older Peter’s face. “Cmon guys, you’re mean. Old Peter is nice too.”

That comment made his face go red, and he practically shouted, “I’m not old!”

Everyone burst out laughing, and Peter was glad that he could lighten the mood. That made things a bit easier, but pretty quickly after that, the somber mood had returned.

\---

The memories Peter was getting from the soul world were weird. He never knew what to think after getting them. He didn’t know when they happened or if they were chronological. He didn’t even know if they were real memories.

But they felt real. Peters conversations with Shuri, hanging out with old Peter, everything. And, he knew details about them. From his memories, he knew that Shuri loved quoting vines, and Gamora was the daughter of Thanos. 

The whole thing just boggled Peters’s mind. What made it even worse was that he didn’t have all his memories back. They were slowly coming back to him in pieces, like dreams. He briefly wondered why no one else was mentioning the soul world. Still, his dream (memory? vision?) told him that it was because most people were in comas throughout the duration of the snap.

He would have to be sure to find someone who WAS awake and ask them about it. 

About a week passed since he came home with May, and he was anxious to visit Tony. There wasn’t much news from the doctors, but Pepper had invited him and May to come to the hospital. 

As they walked up to the stark tower, Peter shivered with anxiety. He couldn’t help but go over all the things he was worried about in his mind. He was scared for Tony. He was scared to see how much things had changed. He was afraid to face Pepper.

Peter knew that the last fear was stupid, but he was still worried. He was scared to see her because she was Tony’s wife. He was afraid to see her because he knew she had a child with Tony. He was scared to see her because he knew she had her own family with Tony, that he knew he wasn’t a part of.

They stepped into the building and were immediately greeted by Happy. Peter was shocked when he lightly hugged Peter, smiling. “Hey, kid. Its been a while. I hate to admit it, but I missed you.”

Peter stood frozen for a solid five seconds, not believing what just happened. Deciding to try to keep the mood light, he broke out into a mischievous grin. “You won’t be saying that when you have to start driving me around again, Mr. Happy!”

Happy groaned, then ruffled his hair. “Yeah yeah, kid, don’t spoil it just yet. Anyways, Mrs. Potts told me to take you guys right up, so let’s go.” 

Peter and May followed Happy to the private elevator, where they were taken up to the hospital wing. They stepped into the waiting room, and luckily it was relatively empty. Peter wasn’t up to dealing with strangers at the moment. The only people in the room were Pepper Potts, a teenaged boy, and a girl who looked around five sitting in his lap. 

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were also in the corner, he assumed they were there for Captain America. He wanted to talk to them about his memories from the soul stone, but figured it wasn’t the right time.

Happy led them to Pepper and the two kids, and Pepper beamed at them and enveloped May in a warm hug. “Peter, May, hey. You should sit down, we need to catch up.”

Peter sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, next to the teenager and little girl. He shifted a little, feeling awkward that he didn’t know them. Peter figured that Pepper could tell he was uncomfortable because she sent him a smile and began introductions. “So, I guess you need to get introduced, right? Well, this is Harley Keener,” she said, referring to the teenager. “Tony had an encounter with him during the whole mandarin thing, and we took him in during the snap.”

“And this,” she said, picking up the little girl, “is Morgan. Morgan Stark. Our daughter.” She beamed, expecting him to be excited. Peter could tell that Pepper loved Morgan, as did pretty much everyone in the room. Happy, May, Pepper, and Harley were all looking at her with adoration. Peter felt something twist in his stomach but plastered on a smile. 

“Wow, I finally get to meet mini Stark. Hey, Morgan.” Peter forced himself to look at her face and saw wide, chocolate-brown eyes that looked precisely like Tonys. Even though she was young, Peter could see the intelligence behind her eyes.

Again, he felt an odd twist in his stomach. Morgan turned away from hi shyly, curling into Pepper. “Come on now, Morgan, say hi!” Pepper tried to encourage her, but Peter could tell she was reluctant. Eventually, though, she mumbled out a tiny hello.

After the very awkward introduction with Morgan, Harley turned to Peter. “Anyways, not to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you? Why are you here to see Tony?”

Within a second, Peter went through at least ten different emotions. Anger flared through him, as well as guilt, regret, and something like bitter spite. Before he could say anything, Harley continued. “Like, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you or heard of you… But that might just be me.”

He turned to Pepper, and even though Peter was literally right next to him, he said, “Isn’t there supposed to be family only? Why the hell is he here?”

Pepper looked shocked, but only for a moment. “Harley, this is Peter. Tonys told you about him.”

Happy added in, “You know, Spider-man.”

Harley got a look of realization to his face. “Ohhhh. Wait, HE’S Spider-man?”

Everyone seemed to forget about his earlier comment, and Harley whipped back around to look at Peter. “So wait, YOU are Spider-man?”

Peter nodded, unsure of whether he was serious or not. Harley continued, though. “Damn. I can’t believe it’s you. Somehow, I thought you’d be… I don’t know, more buff? Dad’s told me a bunch of stuff about you. Oh! Like the ferry, damn. You seriously messed up, man.”

Peter recoiled, what Harley said spinning through his head. Did Tony tell stories about him? Also, DAD? Since when was this kid on dad-name-basis with Tony?

It didn’t help that Harley just had to bring up the ferry incident. And that he said everything with a slightly smug, disbelieving tone. As if he was saying, “I can’t believe how stupid you were.”

But even though Peter was left reeling from what Harley said, everyone else seemed to brush it off like it didn’t matter. Peter mumbled out something about needing the bathroom and got up to leave. He left the room, and no one even looked up. 

He walked to the bathroom slowly, and as soon as he entered one and locked the door, he collapsed. All of a sudden, he felt panic grip him, and it felt like his knees gave out. He felt his throat close to the point where he could barely breathe and started to feel dizzy. His chest started to hurt, and it felt like someone was crushing his lungs. 

Thoughts began to spiral through his head.

_You don’t matter._

He replaced you.

_You’re worthless._

_All you do is mess up._

Peter couldn’t control it. The thoughts just popped up in his head. He tried to counter them, but he could barely breathe.

He lay there on the floor until he could actually breathe again. Peter realized it was a miracle that he didn’t pass out, because, at one point, he literally couldn’t breathe. When he finally calmed down enough to be able to think in coherent sentences, he felt another bout of panic rise in him. 

What the hell was that? Nothing like that had ever happened to him (except in his ‘soul world’ memories, but he wasn’t sure if those were real), and it was really freaky.

He grabbed his phone and googled “feelings of panic, short breath, dizziness, chest pain.” He clicked search and froze at the words on the screen. 

The very first result was “How To Tell if You’re Having a Panic Attack.”

No.

No way.

Peter didn’t get panic attacks.

Panic attacks were for people who had anxiety…

Peter shouldn’t get panic attacks. He couldn’t. Panic attacks happened to people who were… weak. Peter wasn’t weak. (AN: If you are someone who has panic attacks, I promise you are not weak. It’s a tough thing to deal with, and it is absolutely not your fault, nor does it make you weak. You are incredibly strong and brave, and I have the most profound respect for you.)

Peter clicked on the article, and read the list of symptoms for a panic attack. He mentally checked off each thing on the list with what he just experienced. Dizziness, shortness of breath, trembling, a racing heartbeat. 

Slowly, the reality set in. He had just had a panic attack. Peter didn’t know what to think about that. Was he really that weak? He was always so happy, how could he have a panic attack?

Well, he hadn’t exactly been feeling happy lately. But still. Peter wasn’t, like, a mentally ill person. He thought back to the stuff he thought while he had the panic attack.

_“You’re worthless.” _

But Peter wasn’t worthless. He knew that. He wasn’t worthless, and he wasn’t replaced. He did matter.

Peter thought that over and over, trying to expel any negative thoughts from his mind.

So why did it feel like he was lying to himself?

\---

Peter was in the bathroom for at least ten minutes. When he walked back into the waiting room, he expected May to ask him what took so long and had an excuse fully prepared. But he walked in and sat back down, and not a single person in the room looked up. May, Pepper, and Harley were engrossed in conversation, with Pepper holding on to a sleeping Morgan. 

They were talking about Tony. Pepper was telling them a story about one of Tony’s crazy shenanigans, and they were all laughing together. Reminiscing. 

The story was about after they had Morgan. Pepper was telling them about how Tony completely quit working in their lab for a month because he felt like he had to be with Morgan. He had bought tons of books and was always stressed about how he was raising her.

As Peter listened, he felt a hole grow in his chest. That wasn’t the Tony he knew. The Tony he knew would always be working, stressed out, and yet wholly confident. This Tony sounded unsure. This Tony seemed caring, fatherly.

Had he really changed that much? When -or if- Tony woke up, how different would he be? Would it be like May, where everything was awkward?

Peter could tell May was trying, but he could tell that he had changed. She had grown without him, and he didn’t know her like he used to. May found other people to be in her life, and because of that, there wasn’t much room for Peter. Would it really be like that with Tony?

Peter continued to watch the group. Morgan woke up and reached for May. May laughed and picked Morgan up, still chatting with Pepper and Harley. 

This was her family. This was May’s family. It was also Tonys. 

But it wasn’t his. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Angry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry I haven't updated in ages. I've been busy with midterms, and some other stuff. This chapter is kind of hectic, so I hope you don't hate it!

Chapter 4- Angry

Peter awkwardly sat down on a leather couch that seemed more expensive than everything he owned (which, granted, wasn’t much, but still). Pepper had invited him and May to stay for dinner. She explained that she and some of the avengers would be doing a press conference that afternoon, and everyone was gonna be there. 

So, that’s how Peter ended up sitting on a couch in Tony’s living room in Stark tower. 

In front of him was a massive TV, on which he was watching Pepper Potts (well, Stark), Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff walk into a conference room. They sat down at a table, with reporters lights flashing on their faces. 

Pepper cleared her throat, and the room instantly quieted. “Before we begin taking questions, I would like to make a statement on how the country shall progress with recent events. The president has released a report stating that the government will be shut down for a month, along with schools. After consulting with me, the country shall soon put in place new policies to help us ease back into having doubled our population. She has told me to also inform you that there will be clinics set up where people can go to sort out the aftermath of everybody coming back.

“This is an official government statement, but the president personally asked me to relay this message as well. Schools and the government will re-start in exactly one month from now. This, however, is a very brief description of how America, along with several other countries, shall move forward. More information can be found on every government website. With that, please begin with the questions.”

Peter didn’t know how to feel about the government closing. He figured though that a month wasn’t really that long. Considering around four billion people suddenly popped back into existence, he thought it would probably take a lot longer than that to sort everything out. 

It also meant that he would be going back to school in a month. He might see Ned and MJ again. 

Or he might not.

That thought was terrifying. 

His attention returned to the screen in front of him, and he watched as Pepper was bombarded with questions. 

“Ms. Potts, where is Iron Man?”

“Ms. Potts, how has everyone returned?”

“Ms. Potts, how will the avengers answer to all the damage caused?”

Natasha cleared her throat, and the reporters turned their attention to her. 

“To answer a few of your questions, the avengers were able to acquire the infinity stones and reverse the event of five years ago. This, as we know, has led to grave consequences. As of how the avengers will take responsibility for any damage, Mrs. Potts and I are currently working with the government to fund several programs for relief, as well as donating to reconstruction efforts.

“As for Iron Man, he was injured and is... currently healing.”

The reporters didn’t seem to notice the pause in Natasha’s sentence, already firing questions. But Peter noticed. And he wished he didn’t. Because it was just a fresh reminder of Tony. A reminder of how close he was to being dead. A reminder that Peter might never get to see him again.

Peter suddenly felt a wave of nausea but fought it back. 

He was vividly aware of all the other heroes in the room with him. Bucky, Black Panther, Dr. Strange, Scarlet Witch, Thor, Dr. Banner, Hawkeye, Captain Marvel (whom he had never heard of before the battle), and War Machine.

Well, those were all the ones he could name on the spot. 

Apparently, though, everyone was in town. May whispered something to him about having to stick around for the aftermath, Sokovia accords, something something.

That was another thing he missed during the five years: The Sokovia accords got re-written. Apparently, Captain America was no longer a fugitive. Peter couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Briefly, Peter’s mind wandered over to the infamous Steve Rogers. He was still in the med bay, but he was awake. His injuries weren’t too bad. 

Peter used to love Captain America. Not as much as Iron Man, of course, but he still looked up to him. He saw him as a hero. 

But that all changed when he fought him in Germany. After that, Peter lost almost all respect he had for the hero. Once he saw how ruthless he was, how hell-bent Steve was on leaving with Bucky and breaking the law, he was shocked.   
Before he saw Captain America as a moral compass, willing to lay down his life for the country, go up against any bully. But then, Steve dropped a two-ton shipping container on him. 

Steve didn’t know that Peter could hold it.

Steve meant to crush him.

And then if that wasn’t enough, it somehow got worse. Tony came back from Siberia. He was quiet. He was bloody. 

He refused to even tell Peter what happened until months later, after the Vulture.

After the Vulture was when Peter grew really close to Tony. He started going to meet with tony more often, getting upgrades for his suit and working in the lab. After some time, his cover of having an internship was no longer a cover.

He interned with Tony, staying at the compound every other weekend.

He remembered how tony taught him how to fix a car.

He remembered how Tony showed him how to code AI.

He remembered how Tony laughed when Peter accidentally squirted motor oil in his eye.

He remembered Tony.

Tony.

He felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes.

Peter cursed himself internally. No matter what he did, his thoughts always managed to stray back to Tony. 

He stood up and muttered something about the bathroom.

He knew it was the second time he had done something like this, but nobody seemed to notice. They were all either watching the press conference or quietly talking between themselves.

Peter quietly made his way to a bathroom, keeping a calm facade.

He entered the bathroom, locked the door, and had his second panic attack that week.

\---  
Peter sat on the edge of the roof. He was in his suit, his first time going on patrol in five years.

When people saw him, they would gasp and point, sometimes asking for pictures. Apparently, his disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was heartwarming, seeing that some people actually missed him.

He had Karen keep a lookout for petty crimes, trying to get back into the swing of spider-manning in queens. 

While he was waiting for something to pop up, he looked out at the view from the rooftop. It was nighttime, but there were still plenty of people bustling around. He watched as people went about their lives. The city was still chaotic, and all around him, Peter could see the effects of Thanos. There were far too many people on the streets with trash bags, not having a home to go to. 

There were far too many people finding out their wives or husbands had moved on, gotten re-married, having children.

There were far too many people who didn’t get their loved ones back, because right after they were brought back, they got hit by a car, or re-appeared thousands of miles in the air.

But among all the grief, he also saw hope. He saw old married couples getting to know each other again. He saw an older brother who got to hug his little sister for the first time in five years. He saw old friends finally reuniting, sobbing into each other’s shoulders.

Still, though, no matter what Peter was looking at, he saw Thanos. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for Thanos. All the loss, destruction, chaos, was because of Thanos.

He felt a fire light in his chest. He was angry. Furious. All of a sudden, it was like he could feel the sadness of every person in the world. Thanos dared to think he was doing something right. Something good.

The only thing Thanos did was kill. He ripped apart trillions upon trillions of beings, not caring for a single one of the lives he took. And no matter how much Peter hated him, he couldn’t do anything.

Because Thanos was dead.

Peter got angrier and angrier. He was trapped. 

He wanted to hurt Thanos. He needed to hurt Thanos.

By this point, he was pacing. He needed to do something. Needed to get his anger out.

He needed to punch something.

At that moment, Karen piped up in his ear.

“Peter, there is currently someone getting mugged two blocks down.”

And with that, Peter was off. Karen lit up his path and made it there in a minute. He came up to the alleyway and saw 2 brandishing knives at a woman, who was quickly emptying her purse.

Peter felt his anger grow even more. Without even thinking, he jumped into the situation, webbing both of the knives.

As soon as the muggers were distracted, the woman ran. Perfect. No distractions. 

Peter should have known better than to jump into a fight while he was that angry. But he didn’t care. Usually, he would have quickly incapacitated the men, webbing them to a wall and calling the cops. 

He really should have known better.

Before he even registered what he was doing, he was throwing punches. The men tried to hit back, but couldn’t land a single blow. Peter was too fast.

He hit one of the guys in the head. He crumpled.

He didn’t think.

He didn’t fucking think.

He just turned to the other guy. He punched him in the jaw, and the guy kneeled over. Peter kneed him in the stomach, and the guy stumbled back. But Peter kept going.

His anger fueled him, not letting him pause to think for a single moment. He was blinded by his rage.

He punched the guy once. Then again. And again. And again.

He kept on punching until the guy was on the floor.

He went to kicking, not stopping until the guy was barely moving. 

Only then had Peter realized what he had done. 

Oh god.

What had he done? 

No.

No.

No, no, no.

Nonononononono this can’t be happening.

This can’t be fucking happening.

Peter could barely think, barely breathe. How could he have done this? 

He went to the guy he hit in the head. The guy’s pulse was so weak Peter almost didn’t find it. He was mumbling incoherently, hardly conscious.

He went to the other guy. His condition was as bad as the first guy’s. His face was swollen and had cuts all over it. 

Peter almost killed them.

Immediately, Peter threw up. 

He sat in the corner of the alleyway for almost 30 minutes. He could barely think, and he had to figure out what to do. If he didn’t get them help, they would die. But if he did, everyone would think he was a monster.

Well, it wouldn’t be that far from the truth. He was a monster.

After those 30 minutes of just sitting there, Peter got up. He asked Karen to call the cops and pretended to be a regular teenager who just happened to see them. He didn’t say anything about spider-man.

The phone operator told him to stay where he was, but he hung up and left. He was panicking and didn’t know what to do.

There were spatters of blood on his suit. Once again, Peter got the urge to throw up but forced it down, determined to get far away from those men.

\---

When he finally stopped swinging, another 10 minutes had passed. He collapsed on top of a rooftop. He ran to the edge and pulled off his mask.

He had already thrown up what little remnants of food that were in his stomach, so gagged, tasting bile in his throat.

His thought finally calmed down enough for him to think in full sentences. Even though he hated himself for it, he first thought of what was gonna happen to him. If those men told the police what happened, Spider-man was over. Peter felt panicked but realized that the only reason he had even beat them up was that they were robbing someone.

He hoped beyond hope that they didn’t say anything.

And he hated himself for it.

With every second that passed, it got worse. Peter had almost killed those men. He was violent. He was angry. Those men should tell the police about him.

He didn’t deserve to be spider-man. He beat up those men. He wasn’t a hero.

And even through all of that, he was still angry.

He was so angry, but not at Thanos. He thought he was angry at Thanos, and that might’ve been true to some extent.

But really, he was angry at himself. He felt angry about everything. He was angry about what he did to those men. He was angry that Tony was still in a coma, and there was nothing he could do to help. He was angry about his panic attacks. He was angry that he couldn’t reconnect with May.

And most of all, he was angry about Thanos, but not in the way that he was before. He was angry at himself for not being able to stop him.

Peter had tried to fight Thanos. But all he did was get in the way. He didn’t try hard enough. If he was just a better fighter, if he could have just gotten the gauntlet off of Thanos, none of this would have happened. Peter was weak, pathetic. 

God, he hated himself so fucking much.

He checked the time, and it read just past 2 am.

He couldn’t go back “home.” Not yet. He couldn’t deal with that yet. He couldn’t deal with tossing and turning on that couch, not being able to sleep because memories of the soul world kept popping into his head. He had to stay out, stay distracted so that his thoughts didn’t drift back to what he did.

So he went back out crime-fighting.

Although he was beyond terrified that he might hurt someone again, he couldn’t face the alternative.

For the next few others, everything was relatively peaceful. He walked a couple of women home and hailed a drunk guy a cab. It was fine. Then Karen gave him an alert for another mugging. Peter hesitated. He shouldn’t go. He couldn’t risk hurting someone again. But then he pictured the victim, their trembling hands giving the attacker their phone, their wallet.

He couldn’t turn his back on that person just because he was scared. He would just have to control himself.

He arrived at the scene. It was just one attacker this time, a burly guy backing a 20-something woman into the corner of the alleyway. Like before, he swung in, and the woman ran off as soon as the attacker was distracted.

It was just Peter and the man now.

Breathe.

The man charged forward, swinging a fist at Peter. 

Peter focused, dodging the punch and swinging back, making sure not to hit too hard.

Peter realized he might have hit too lightly because the guy just smirked at him. 

He suddenly felt very unsettled. The man was looking at Peter with a weird, almost smug expression. It was like the man was looking right through Peter, into his soul. Like he could see how scared Peter was.

Peter didn’t really register what happened next. The man raised his hand and snapped.

\---

Peter was swinging. Surrounded by explosions. In the distance, he could see Thanos. In his comms, he could hear the heroes around him, shouting at each other. He had the gauntlet in his arms.

The next moment he was on the floor, Thanos’ ships raining fire around him.

There was iron man, battling Thanos.

Thanos snapped, and Peter held his breath.

Then Tony raised his hand, a multicolored glow illuminating his face.

He snapped.

\---

Peter gasped, the memories flooding through his brain. The man just kept on smiling, but Peter didn’t acknowledge him. He couldn’t. He felt flooded with panic. It was like he was back on the battlefield. Every movement he made was the difference between life and death.

He had to run.

He had to fight.

Peter could still hear the explosions resonating in his ears, but he fought through the haze. He tried to stand up, raising his fists against the man. But before he could throw a punch, the man knocked him to the side. Peter saw the glint of the blade the moment before the man stabbed it into his leg.

Still in his panicked state, the pain didn’t immediately register. But as soon as it did, Peter felt like screaming.

The man leaned down to Peters’ ear. “You’re just like every other hero. Scared, weak. Your triggers are too obvious.”

Peter didn’t understand what he said. He was too focused on trying to breathe. The man flashed him a grin and walked away, all too calm.

Peter stayed on the floor of the alleyway, gasping for breath, trying to get the ringing out of his ears. He calmed down and thought back to the encounter. The man had just snapped, and was able to completely incapacitate him. 

He tried to get up and immediately collapsed, forgetting about the knife in his leg. He knew better than to pull it out, knowing that it was the only thing stopping him from bleeding out. He hobbled up, gripping the wall. 

“Peter, it appears that you have been injured. Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark?”

He sucked in a breath. Mr. Stark.

Peter mumbled a no to Karen. He shot a web and tried to pull himself up. It was agony.

But Peter had to get home.

What would have usually taken him ten minutes took him 40, and by the time he got home, it was almost dawn. Luckily for Peter, May wasn’t home. Pepper had a mild breakdown after the press conference, and so May stayed over.

She trusted Peter to stay at home, which he was immensely grateful for at the moment. 

He stumbled into the apartment and hobbled straight to the bathroom. He reached under the counter and grabbed the first aid kit.

Pulling the knife out of his leg felt like fire, but after that, it was smooth sailing. Peter was well accustomed to stitching himself up.

While he cleaned up, he was thinking. There was so much to think about after that night. And that man… who was he? And why did that snap affect him so much?

Peter had a gut feeling he already knew the answer, but he didn’t feel like acknowledging it. He went into the living room and flopped down onto the couch. He pictured the battlefield. He remembered the constant terror he had felt. 

He remembered before that, his body getting ripped to shreds by Thanos.

He remembered watching Tony get stabbed.

And just like that, he felt panic grip him.

No. 

He wasn’t that weak, he couldn’t be. It wasn’t even that bad. Peter couldn’t fathom why the battle was doing this to his mind. Why he was freaking out so much. 

He dug his hands into his legs.  
The flare of pain was immediate as Peter’s fingers buried into his stab wound. He flinched his hands away, but the pain continued to course through him. As he focused on it, he realized something. That jab of pain had brought him back. He wasn’t panicking as much anymore. 

The pain took away the panic.

Peter stayed on the couch, and every time he felt his thoughts stray too far, or when he felt panicked, he shoved his fingers into the wound. And it worked. It took away everything.

It worked so well.

Too well.


	6. Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: References to self-harm

Chapter 5- Glass

Peter was in the soul world. He was sparring with Gamora, and even though he wasn't even close to her level, he was steadily getting better at fighting.

They couldn't keep track of time in the soul world, but it had been approximately 8 months since they first appeared there. Peter figured the only reason all of them hadn't either fallen into a coma or gone insane was that they had each other. In the soul world, they had to figure out a way to pass the time. They couldn't sleep, eat, and there were no material objects other than the clothes on their backs. They didn't get thirsty or hungry, they didn't get dirty or sweat. It was like they were hardly alone.

Sparring with Gamora was one of Peter's favorite and most common pastimes. She was a master fighter, and he had already improved to the point where he could beat most of the people in their group.

Shuri was no challenge. Bucky, Sam, Old Peter, and Mantis were all easy to beat after the first month. He could beat Groot and Drax, but it took some effort. He still hadn't managed to defeat Gamora, Doctor Strange, or T'challa.

His progress had been rapid at first, Gamora teaching him how to use his spidey-sense and reflexes to take down opponents. Peter appreciated it because he could get rid of all his ent up energy, as well as his frustrations.

After being stuck with the same ten people for 8 months, petty arguments and hostility were a reasonably common occurrence.

But the eight months had also weighed on them in other ways. The power of the soul stone was continuously pressing against them, trying to get them to submit. They all tried their best to keep up their defenses, but sometimes Peter caught himself wondering why he was even fighting it.

He was stuck in an endless plane with no means of escape. If anything, wouldn't it be better to just go to sleep, end the constant boredom and suffering?

Peter got snapped out of his thoughts when Gamora knocked him to the ground. She smiled at him and held out her hand." You're getting better every day. I'm sure one day, you might even be able to beat me."

Peter cracked a grin and dusted off his legs. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, oh wise master."

She laughed and ruffled his hair, walking towards the rest of the group. "Let's call it a day, then. Your butt must be sore from constantly getting knocked down."

Peter grumbled in annoyance but walked with her. They sat down next to Dr. Strange and Sam Wilson, who were talking about something to do with physical therapy and whatnot. Gamora started talking too while Peter just sat back and watched.

He was looking at Sam when he noticed something was off. Sams whole face was drooping, and it seemed that his speech was getting slurred. Gamora and Strange seemed to see it too because Gamora leaned forward and shook him.

"Sam? Sam! What's going on with you?" Her voice sounded more concerned than he had ever heard before. But even though she was practically screaming in his face, Sam's face kept getting droopier. It almost looked like he was just falling asleep on the spot. Only then did Peter realize what was happening: the soul stone. It was taking Sam.

Peter felt a surge of panic take hold, not knowing what to do, He watched Gamora and Strange struggle to keep him awake, while the others gathered around frantically.

In the end, though, nothing could be done. Sam slumped forward, gone. His pulse was weak, and he was barely breathing. He was in the coma-like state, and wouldn't wake up.

And just like that, their group of ten was now nine.

\---

Peter woke up. The clock read 5:00 am, but by that point, he was used to waking up cold early in the morning. He sighed and headed to the fire escape. Usually, he would just try and ignore his dreams, go back to sleep.

But this time it was different. This memory bothered Peter. It wasn't like the ones he had before. The other ones were mundane, boring. Bits and pieces of conversations. But this memory showed something different. Seeing Sam… he didn't even know what to think. Sam was gone, just like that. It terrified him.

And even though he left that place, what he saw still scared him. It haunted him, always in the back of his mind.

The more Peter learned about his time in the soul world, the more uneasy it made him feel. He dreamed about it almost every night, the memories coming back with such intensity that it made him dizzy. And with more and more memories flooding his head, the more he could feel the impact of the soul world. The more he remembered, the more he was aware of the effect the world had on him. He could almost feel its presence on him, around him, like a physical weight. It was still pressing down on his mind, waiting until he gave up.

The cold air from sitting outside made him shiver, but he didn't move. He couldn't. He felt frozen, too caught up in his own mind. He sat in silence, thinking. The soul world enraptured his mind, not allowing him a moment of peace. And the more he thought, the worse he felt. It was like there was chaos inside him. He couldn't sleep, couldn't get a moment of rest.

And the chaos inside him was like a vortex. It pulled him in, trapping him in his own mind, making him panicked.

But as he sat in the cold night air, and he felt the panic take hold, he dug his fingers onto his leg. A week ago, he got that stab wound, and since then, had re-opened it about 12 times. He managed to hide his bloody bandages from May, so at least she wasn't too worried about him. But he kept on digging into his leg, desperately searching for the sharp pain that brought relief to his mind.

By that point, he was grateful for the pain. Pain felt like the only thing tethering him to the real world. Every day, every moment, nothing felt real. He felt hollow, feeling disconnected from everything he did or said. It was almost like he was in the third person, just an outside observer of his own life. It felt like if the world was a computer, he had all the wires unplugged, no longer part of anything.

That feeling only grew as time went on. Every time he went out, as spider-man or as Peter, he would see ordinary people going about their lives. The world had changed, but people adapted, moving on.

Peter saw other people moving on, and it only reminded him of how stuck he felt. He felt like he had left himself, either in 2018 or the soul world, he didn't know.

He sat outside for an hour.

Most of it, he didn't remember. It was like he blinked, and the sun was rising. He shivered and climbed back inside. May had finally managed to clear out the spare room of all of Harleys stuff, and the room was christened his.

And even though he now had a room to sleep in, and May had cleared out all of Harleys stuff, it still smelled like him. Everything Peter touched in that room smelled like Harley. Well, that wasn't saying much, considering the place was pretty bare. Most of Peter's stuff had gotten lost or sold, so there was just a bed, a small desk, and a near-empty wardrobe.

Peter left his room and made breakfast, preferring the kitchen to 'his' room. May got up around the time he finished, greeting him with an awkward "hi."

They sat together for breakfast, awkward silence filling the room for a moment. May spoke, clearly trying too hard to seem casual. "So how's it going, sweetie? It's been a little over two weeks since you came back! How do you feel?"

Peter knew she was trying. Of _course_, she was trying. She still cared about him. But it was all wrong.

"I'm doing fine, May."

_A lie._

"You shouldn't worry about me, though."

_Don't burden her with your problems._

"Worry about Pepper and Tony."

_Tony…_

He gave her a smile, trying not to look strained. She leaned forward, patting her hand to his head.

"God, five years and you're still as sweet as ever. You have no idea how much I missed you, kiddo. You have no idea how many times I wished I could introduce you to Harley and Morgan…"

Of course. Harley and Morgan. Those were the kids she cared about. They filled the gap for her. No matter what, the conversation would lead back to them.

"...anyways, I'm so sorry kiddo, but I have to head into work today. I've been trying to get some time off so we could hang out, but everything's just so busy-"

Peter interrupted her, "-May, its totally fine, I get it. There's no need to apologize," He chuckled, standing up, "Other people need you. Plus, I'm fine on my own."

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks for being so understanding. Oh, by the way, I'm going shopping later. Anything you need, besides some clothes?"

"Oh yeah, actually. I was wondering if I could get a phone? It doesn't have to be new or anything, it's just that my old one doesn't work anymore. Y'know…"

"Oh, of course, I hadn't thought of that…"

The conversation ended there.

As soon as May was put the door, Peter put his suit on. He wasn't exactly keeping it a secret that he was going out as Spider-man again, but he'd rather not talk to May about it just yet.

He'd been using Spider-man as an excuse to go outside and spend his time doing something useful. Even though he just came back from the dead, so had half of the world. It was no excuse to take a break, especially since people needed his help more than ever.

With the number of people who came back, there were lots of people without homes or jobs, desperate people. Those people stole, killed, did anything they could to survive. And while Peter wasn't blaming them, he had to protect everyone.

His presence wasn't always welcomed, though. There were plenty of people angry at the avengers, needing someone to blame for all the problems in the world. J. Jonah Jameson was working his ass off, making people think that he was a menace.

Jameson would tell stories of people displaced after the snap, tell stories of how "Spider-man caused damage here!" or "Spider-man hurts more people than he helps!"

And as much as Peter hated the things he said, he couldn't help but agree. When he went out, all he could think about were the people he failed to save. All he could think about was that, had he been a little bit faster, Tony might not be in a coma. If he were a bit stronger, he could have saved so many lives.

But he was slow, and he was weak.

As he swung, his mind drifted to the men he took down last week. "Took down" being a loose term. It was more like he beat them into the dirt.

He kept on seeing the image of the mans bloodied body, barely breathing. And given how hard he hit the other guy, there was a high chance that he sustained some sort of brain damage.

Luckily, the men never reported them, but it was most likely out of fear more than anything else.

And then there was the third man from that night. The one that snapped. Peter was avoiding thinking about him, not wanting to confront whatever implications that moment had.

Before he got completely lost in his own mind, though, Karen spoke in his ear. "Incoming call from Pepper Potts."

The sudden voice startled him for a moment, but he very quickly regained his composure and accepted. His mind went to all the reasons Pepper might be calling and prayed it was news about Tony.

"Hello? Pepper, is there something wrong?"

"Peter! Hey, things are still kinda frantic around here, but Tony woke up! He's still healing, but he's finally conscious, so get over here. Harley is also on his way from the cabin with Morgan, so we can all meet up to see him."

She hung up after that, sounding busy and hectic, but Peter didn't care. His excitement soared, and he felt close to tears. Finally, _finally_, Tony was awake. Finally, there was someone he could talk to, who would understand him.

Tony was going to be okay.

Peter could barely wrap his mind around the news. It felt like everything bad that had happened in the past five years would be erased, and he could finally go back to feeling normal.

But even through all his excitement, a little thought wriggled its way into his mind.

_What if he moved on._

That thought terrified Peter. His relationship with May wasn't like it was before. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her.

If the same thing happened with Tony… Peter didn't know what he'd do. Just like that, all his excitement disappeared. Tony might be a completely different person. After all, he had spent five years on earth without Peter, building his family with Pepper.

And now that Peter was back, would Tony be willing to let him into his family? Would Tony really want Peter there, a part of the fantastic family? Harley, Morgan, Pepper, and May were all a part of that family.

No. Tony wouldn't want him. Because Peter was cursed. Peter was weak and constantly failed to save people. Peter had messed up every family he ever had. So why would Tony ever want Peter to be a part of his?

Even with all the doubts in his mind, Peter still made his way back to May's -_his_, he reminded himself- apartment. He changed out of his suit (can't let the doctors know his identity) and started heading to the tower.

Every second that passed on the metro was agony, as his anxiety built up until it was almost suffocating. He was terrified but also excited, just hoping beyond hope that things would be okay.

When he got off the metro, he practically sprinted the last five blocks to the tower. He burst into the tower, trying to calm down his racing heart. He slowed down and walked up to the receptionist. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say, but it didn't matter.

"Uh, hi, I'm Peter Parker, here to see Tony? Ms. Potts called me and said to come."

The receptionist glanced up, looking at him skeptically. "Yeah, sure, kid. Pepper Potts personally called _you_ to see Tony Stark, of who's supposedly in critical condition."

"I-I get that it sounds crazy, but it's true! Please, just ask Ms. Potts, and she'll tell you. Please, I need to see him."

The desperation in his voice must have convinced her, and so although she seemed skeptical, she reached for the intercom.

Before she could reach it though, the voice of FRIDAY sounded. "The boss said to let Peter up through the private elevator."

The receptionist (who Peter learned was called Anna from her name tag) looked shocked, but got up and wordlessly escorted him to the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, the elevator started moving. Peter tapped his foot impatiently, not really paying attention. The closer he got to Tony, the more he could _feel_ it. It was like he could feel his presence, and he could hear the sound of his voice.

The elevator dinged, and Peter rushed out. There was enough waiting, and he _needed_ to see Tony, needed to know that he was okay, that he was alive.

Peter was in the waiting room, and somehow, he knew precisely where Tony was, like his senses were guiding him.

He made a beeline for the door that he knew would lead to tony's section, but before he could push it open, someone put their arm in front of him.

"Woah woah woah, that's a private suite. Mr. Stark is in there, I can't let you in." Peter assessed the man. He was wearing scrubs and a lab coat, so he was obviously a doctor.

"I'm sorry, doc, but you need to let me in. Ms. Potts called me here, please…let me in." Peter's voice cracked, and he felt close to tears, but the doctor didn't budge.

"Look, I'm really sorry, kid, but there's nothing I can do. Ms. Potts would have told me if someone was coming. It's _family only_ right now, so you'll just have to wait."

Peter felt like he'd been punched in the gut. _Family only._ He stumbled back and sat down heavily in a chair.

He wasn't exactly family, so he would just have to wait there. Peter mentally kicked himself. _Of course, it's family only, Ms. Potts must have meant for you to wait here until you could see him…_

He felt tears well up in his eyes, but just then, Pepper walked out.

"There you are, Peter! Come here, kid," she said, and she pulled him into a tight hug. "Harley and Morgan arrived with happy about five minutes ago. Tony's still awake, but he's still in rough shape. Come on in and say hi!"

Peter couldn't help but feel better at her warm smile, but as they stepped into the hallway, he just felt his nerves build up. Pepper steered him to a door, and they stepped into Tony's suite.

The room was dark, and Harley, Morgan, Rhodey, and Happy were all sitting by Tony. Pepper quickly joined them, and Peter watched as Morgan excitedly told Tony a story.

Tony…

He looked tired and not quite fully there. His entire right side was bandaged, and his hair was a mess. But still, he watched Morgan with a small smile and more love in his eyes than Peter had ever seen.

Peter saw them chat and stayed in the corner of the room. He didn't want to interrupt the moment.

Tony leaned his head towards Morgan, and whispered so quiet that Peter could barely hear, "I'm so glad my family's here. All my kids, my beautiful wife, and my best friends."

Needless to say, Peter wished he hadn't heard that. He quickly opened the door, trying to be inconspicuous. He ran into something on the way out of the room, but brushed past it, not lifting his eyes.

He kept his eyes downcast and walked as quickly as he could to the elevator. He had heard enough.

Tony has his family. And Peter wasn't a part of it.

The elevator doors closed, and the tears began to slide down Peter's cheeks. His aloneness was his only solace, as he began to sob, glad that no one was around to witness his unwarranted pain.

He had no right to feel like this. He had no reason to feel as though his heart was ripped out of his chest. He had no right to feel entitled to Tony's love, and he had no right to expect a place in his family.

The elevators opened, and Peter rushed out of the tower, hiding his face. He blindly walked, just trying to get as far away from the tower as possible.

He kept on walking for two hours, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of May's apartment. He was entirely out of it and was shocked when he entered and saw the time.

6:00 pm

Had he really walked all the way from the tower to queens?

Luckily, May wasn't home to see his ruined state. He had stopped crying but was sure that his eyes were red and that there were tear tracks down his cheeks.

He stayed silent, calmly walking to the bathroom. He stood still for a while. He started at his reflection in the mirror.

He hated it.

Without even thinking, in a flash, he raised his hand and punched the glass.

The mirror shattered, but he didn't care. He kept on punching, hitting it over and over and over until the pain in his knuckles was too much to bear.

He stood for a second, panting at the force he used. When he finally looked up to see the damage he caused, he gasped. The mirror wasn't just shattered. It was dust, crushed by his knuckles into a fine powder.

Bigger shards of glass lay in the sink, and some of them had speckles of blood.

He looked down at his hand. It was smeared in blood, dozens of tiny cuts mixed with larger ones. He could see the telltale shimmer that meant shards of glass had gotten embedded in his hand.

Among all of that, though, he didn't mind. In fact, he almost liked it. It was like his stan wound. He relished the pain, relished the feeling of clarity it brought him.

And, in some sense, he felt he deserved it. Peter was pissed, and he was pissed at himself.

He smashed the mirror, but it didn't satisfy his anger. He _hated_ himself, hated how he acted. He was weak and pathetic and had no place in Tony's family. And yet, he still felt so _disappointed_ after hearing what Tony said.

He didn't deserve to be a part of any family. Just now, he had crushed May's bathroom mirror. All he was was an inconvenience, a nuisance.

He was angry.

He was so, so angry.

He needed to punish himself, punish himself more. He needed to feel _pain._

His eyes drifted down to the shards of glass lying in the sink.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the sharpest piece.

\---

Pepper sat down at Tony's bed, and he watched Morgan tell a story that didn't warrant nearly as much excitement as she had put into it.

He felt overwhelmed by the love he felt for her, from the love he felt for everybody in that room.

Despite his burns, despite everything that had happened to him, he was happy. He had found a family and would do anything to protect it.

He wasn't much of the religious type, but still, he whispered to himself a silent prayer, a thank-you.

"I'm so glad my family's here. All my kids, my beautiful wife, and my best friends."

_Thank you._

He said this too quietly for the people in the room to hear but felt a sense of fulfillment in saying it.

He was relaxed, content, for just a moment.

But then, he remembered something. Something crucial, something so important he couldn't fathom how he forgot.

"Hey, Pep, where's Peter?"


	7. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!! Descriptions of self-harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If anyone is reading this note, I am so, so sorry for taking so long to update. I know with quarantine and all, I really don't have an excuse. I have all the time in the world, but it still took me forever to update, so I'm sorry. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, I made sure to get it to 4k words. 
> 
> Also! I'm pretty sure no one cares, but I just binged watched the entirety of Merlin in a few days, and, lemme tell you. When I say I cried like a baby at the end, I mean I was legit sobbing. I was literally listening to the soundtrack as I finished up this chapter, so yeah. If anyone wants to talk to me about it, pls do because I desperately want to talk about it and I don't think any of my friends have seen it.

Chapter 6- May

Steve outside Tony's hospital room when a kid opened the door and ran into him. Before Steve could process what happened, the kid pushed past him, keeping his head down. Confused, Steve walked into the room and was greeted with a weak, but very much alive, Tony.

He caught the tail end of something he was saying about "Wheres Peter?' but didn't comment on it. 

He cleared his throat, making his presence in the room known. Tonys gaze snapped into his, and they had an almost silent exchange. Steve could see the relief in his eyes and knew Tony was thinking the same thing as him. 

_Thank god you're okay._

Old feuds long gone, Steve felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. When he saw Tony with the infinity stones on the battlefield, all he could think was _ That should be me_. 

Tony had a family, a daughter. He had everything to live for. He was a hero. Tony didn't deserve to die. Steve, on the other hand, was a criminal. Well, technically pardoned, but he betrayed Tony when he needed him most. He betrayed the world.

Tony broke his gaze, turning to Pepper. She got the cue and stood up, allowing Steve to sit next to Tony.

"Its good to see you alive, Stark."

"Don't sound so relieved Rogers. As soon as I get out of this hospital, I am gonna make you pay for that shield. I mean, losing it is one thing, but you managed to break it!"

Steve cracked a grin, glad to see Tony was still his old self. The moment was very nearly overwhelming for him, and he could only imagine what Tony must feel like. Steve felt the mix of emotions that always came after a battle. Relief that all his friends were (mostly) okay, fear of the backlash that he knew was coming, and utter euphoria. Because they had done it. They _ actually _did it. They brought everybody back.

The room lapsed into silence. Harley, Morgan, Rhodey, and Happy were all in the room but made no effort to speak. They knew this was between Tony and Steve.

Steve was contemplating when he remembered, "Oh, by the way, there was a kid who ran into me on his way out of here, who is he? Did you adopt a third kid or something?" He thought he would bring up the random occurrence, still confused and curious who the kid was.

Tony looked confused for a moment before opening his mouth. "Do you mean-"

"Peter?" Pepper cut him off. She also had a confused face on, but also looked mildly concerned. "He was just here, I called him to come and see you. He was here a second ago, but then you walked in, and…"

Tony furrowed his eyebrows. "Steve, did you see where he was going or what he was doing?"

Steve shook his head. "Not really. He was kind of running and had his head down. He was heading for the elevator, but he's probably fine." 

Steve was a bit confused about why Tony seemed so concerned, along with Pepper. Hed never heard Tony talk about anyone called Peter before, and wasn't aware of any other kids with close connections to Tony.

Tony and Pepper were staring at each other, silently communicating.

"Could you guys please tell me who this Peter kid is?"

Tony turned to him again. "Spider-man. He, uh, he got dusted. He's the reason I helped."

Steve's mouth formed an "o." That explained why Tony never talked about him. In fact, every time someone brought up Spider-Man, Tony almost immediately diverted the conversation, or would straight-up leave. The memory was probably too painful. And from the looks of it, the kid wasn't that old. 

Steve couldn't believe he didn't notice sooner, but it made so much sense. Tony and Spider-Man had been on Titan together all those years ago. _ Tony… Tony had to watch him die. _

He suddenly felt slightly nauseated. Steve had to watch Bucky die, and that was painful enough. But a _ kid… _

He snapped his attention back into the room. 

Tony picked up his phone, then turned to Pepper. "I can't call him, I'm pretty sure the phone number I have is out of service. Do you know if he got a new one?"

Pepper sighed. "He doesn't have a new one yet. The only way I managed to contact him directly was because of Karen. I can only call him if he's wearing the suit, which," She picked up her phone and scrolled for a moment, "He is not."

Tony seemed to visibly grow more tired before Steve's eyes.

Quickly, Pepper walked up to him, trying to calm him down. "Hey, I'm sure he's fine. I don't know why he ran off, but ill set up an alert so I can call him as soon as he puts on the suit. The kids probably feeling really overwhelmed with everything going on, so we should give him some space."

Tony looked disappointed, and there was still concern etched on his face, but he nodded. He turned his attention to Morgan, putting her on his lap. "Hear that kiddo? You're gonna get to meet Spider-Man!"

She giggled a little before saying, "I already did! When you were still asleep!"

Tony looked at Pepper, a bit surprised.

"He came with Auntie May. He looked kinda scary, though," Morgan continued.

Pepper stayed silent, so Tony just turned back to Morgan. "Okay, kiddo, well, you don't need to be scared of him. He's a good guy! And he's gonna be like your cousin. He's out family."

\---

Blood. Peter had experience cleaning it up before. He was lucky his suit was red, it didn't stain too bad when he got injured. But somehow this was different. He couldn't determine if it was better or worse, but it was definitely different.

It was different when he just sat silently as little rivulets of blood flowed down his arm.

It was different because Peter was the one who reached for the glass.

It was different because he knew he shouldn't.

He knew that cutting yourself was something crazy people did.

He knew May would probably be worried.

It was different because he did it anyway.

But at that moment, he didn't care. He didn't care about any of it. Because, at that moment, he would do anything, _ anything, _ to stop the thoughts swirling through his head. He would do _ anything _ to let the anger and pain and frustration out.

He would do anything to get the image of Harley, Morgan, and Pepper sitting around Tony, out of his head. 

There was so much going on in his mind, _ too _much. It was all too much, too much, too much.

Too much.

Too much.

_Too much._

_Slash._

He didn't even register it at first. The cut was so quick, and the glass was so sharp that it didn't even appear at first.

But then, he saw his skin split apart. He saw the layers separate, and the paleness of raw flesh from under the split.

The pain registered in him after a millisecond. It hurt. It hurt, hurt,_ hurt _.

But it did exactly what he wanted.

The clarity it brought him was euphoric. Thoughts vanished from his head as he focused on the intense, vibrant pain in his wrist. He felt relaxed, being able to breathe clearly, not suffocating from the weight of his mind.

It hurt, but he had never felt better.

_Another two slashes._

Blood started to flow, forming into little beads until it built up, then filling the cuts. It began slowly flowing down his arm. Peter almost couldn't be bothered to address it but got up once it started to drip on the bathroom counter. 

_Just one more…_

_He added three._

Thank god May wasn't home. The idea of her seeing him like this was humiliating. It was terrifying. The idea of _ anyone _seeing him like this was terrifying. They would think he was crazy.

But he wasn't. Peter knew that. He _ wasn't _crazy. He just needed to get a clear head. That was it.

But he knew he couldn't leave behind a trace of what he did to his arm. 

He got some paper towels and held them over the cuts. He stayed there for a while until the blood had mostly stopped. He checked them to see the cuts were slowly mending themselves. He was relieved, knowing that most likely, he wouldn't even have any scars. 

They were deep cuts, though. 

He washed them out and got their first aid kit, pouring alcohol over the cuts, and receiving another bout of intense pain. He wrapped some gauze around his wrist, covering up the six neat, aligned incisions.

One long-sleeved t-shirt and some cleaning later, all traces of… whatever that was, were gone. There was a steady pulsing, slightly dull pain that had been coursing through his arm the entire time he cleaned up, which he latched onto. For the better part of an hour, he was able to keep his mind clear.

But all good things must come to an end. The pain wore off as the cuts healed themselves, and he was left alone again, sitting on the couch in a living room he barely knew. Thoughts about Tony invaded his mind once again. This time though, when he thought about Tony, he thought about what he would say if he saw Peter now.

"God, you're even more pathetic than I thought. All this time, I thought you were smarter, less clingy and sensitive. I mean, I thought you cared about me. But you meet my family and you hate them. And you wanna know why? Because you can't handle not being the center of attention for five _ fucking _seconds.

"You're so self-absorbed that you can't even accept that I've moved on. I only recruited you because of your powers. You forced your way into my life by making your messes, making me clean them up. And now that I have a _ real _family, I don't need some snot-nosed brat that messes up everything he touches."

_It's not real. Tony wouldn't say that._

Peter tried to convince himself that Tony would never say that, but there was just a sliver of doubt in his mind.

_How do you know he wouldn't say that? All of it is true, so why wouldn't he say it?_

Peter stood up abruptly. He put his hands to his ears and hunched over, trying to block them out.

He was so weak. He was so pathetic. 

He was attention-seeking. He was a burden. He wrecked the ferry. He crashed a plane. He couldn't get the gauntlet off Thanos. 

He couldn't handle the fact that Tony and May moved on.

He was _selfish_, making everything about himself.

He went back to the bathroom and found the glass.

He didn't just need to feel pain. He needed to be punished; he needed to _ suffer _. 

He removed his bandage and found the six white lines he left behind. He pressed the glass into his skin, retracing lines. He drew it across his wrist slowly, digging it in. 

No more quick slashes. 

The pain was worse this time.

The glass had gone deeper than before, and it cut through his skin agonizingly slow, making him lose all his thoughts.

He fell into a haze. 

He didn't know how long he sat in the bathroom, but by the time he was done, there were six pink scars on his left arm, slowly healing and disappearing. Again.

\---

"Peter! I'm back!" May walked into the apartment at around 9 pm, scanning the living room for him. He came out of his room to greet her, trying his best to act nonchalant.

"Hey, you're home early." He wasn't used to her getting home before midnight on weekdays, seeing as she always took on as many shifts as possible.

She let out a laugh before setting down her purse. "Huh, I guess to you I am." She moved to the kitchen, motioning for Peter to sit down on the couch. "Since I got promoted, money has been less tight. I don't have to take on so many extra shifts at the hospital now. I work during the day throughout the week and sometimes I take on nights during the weekend. I'm actually home late. Once everything settles down a bit, ill have to be there less."

She began to cook something, and Peter stayed seated at the couch, not quite knowing what to do. They stayed there in silence for a little, may focusing on whatever dish she was preparing. 

Peter thought about earlier. He cleaned up the bathroom as best he could, but he was pretty sure May would notice the absence of a mirror in their bathroom. He felt a heavy weight settle on his chest. May had enough to deal with, he couldn't just go around smashing mirrors that they couldn't afford.

He cleared his throat and looked up. "Uh, May…"

"Yeah?"

"I was in the bathroom and accidentally knocked the mirror off the wall. It broke, but I cleaned cleared away all the glass. I'm really sorry, I can pay for a new one, and-"

Her laugh cut him off. "Peter, it's fine. I meant to get a new mirror anyways, the frame on that one was falling apart. I just hope you were careful when you were cleaning up the glass. I didn't get the chance to go shopping today, so ill get it when I go."

Peter nodded, trying to ignore the comment she made about being careful. He was a bit shocked at how easily she said that she would just get a new one. 

Until he remembered. They _ could _afford it.

Peter realized he had never seen May without bags under her eyes, until now. She really meant it when she said they didn't have to worry about money as much. It shook Peter to think about that. Ever since he lived with May, and even with Ben, money was something he thought about always. How they were gonna pay for things like heating and electricity, especially during some of the worse months. 

When he got into midtown on a scholarship, it was one of the best days of his life. It was his chance at an actual future, where maybe, just maybe, he could have a comfortable life. He worked his ass off and kept his grades perfect, knowing that it was his one chance to get into a good college. 

So the idea that for once, he _ wouldn't _have to worry about money, was mind-boggling. 

"Dinners ready."

They sat down at May's small dinner table together, and she set down to plates of what looked like spaghetti with a red sauce. "Spaghetti bolognese, my favorite."

Peter was shocked at the food in front of him. "You mean you cooked this? For once, it actually smells good!" He grinned a bit and picked up his fork, preparing to dig in.

May laughed and playfully hit him on the shoulder. "Hey, I wasn't that bad of a cook! And I've had plenty of time to practice." She sat down in front of him and started eating. Peter stiffened a bit, but also started to eat, trying not to think about anything negative (which was getting more difficult for him by the day).

They ate for a little, then May set her fork down. "So, Peter. Pepper called me earlier." He stiffened even more but kept his expression neutral. "She said you came to the tower but ran off."

She didn't say anything else, allowing Peter space to explain. She didn't push, but Peter could feel her eyes boring into him. He looked up at her but kept his face entirely neutral. He couldn't afford to let her know what he was thinking. 

When he didn't say anything, she sighed and gripped his hand and looked him in the eye. He studied her face, feeling like he hadn't seen her in years. Her brow was creased, and her eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion, worry, and uncertainty. 

"Peter… I'm sorry. I know this can't be easy for you, and I can't possibly begin to understand how you feel. I mean, this-" She gestured to the air, "-is crazy. Everything is so confusing right now, and I can't be here for you as much as I wish I was…" She moved her hands to her face, rubbing her temples. "I need you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, what you need me to do."

Peter didn't know what to do. He knew she wouldn't believe him if he told her she was fine, but he sure as hell couldn't tell her the truth. She would think he was crazy or send him to some sort of therapist. She would never look at him the same. That idea was humiliating and terrifying.

But there was also the alternative that she wouldn't believe him. She would think he was overdramatic and making things up. She would tell him that he needed to suck it up and stop being so selfish.

So his only option was to lie through his teeth and make it convincing. 

He let his face morph into something like a tired expression and smiled sadly. He spoke softly, carefully choosing his words. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, May. Generally, I'm handling fine-" She looked at him skeptically, "-But, you know…"

He looked away from her burning gaze. "It just gets a little overwhelming sometimes. Like today at the tower, with Pepper. She took me to see Tony and I got really nervous about seeing him. I think it's because I was just so worried about him. He almost died, and I realized that I could have never seen him alive again. And then I go outside, and I see so many people struggling, and so much has changed." 

He finally looked back at her, and he could tell he had said exactly what she needed to hear. She smiled at him in understanding. "We'll get through this Peter. Together. I'm always here for you, you know that. I love you."

"I love you too."

He got up and took both of their plates to the dishwasher. May's food had been excellent, surprisingly. Still, he was disappointed he didn't get to enjoy it fully, their conversation dampening his mood.

When he was done with the dishes, he saw May sitting at the couch and scrolling through the tv. "Hey, what do you think about watching something? I kinda wanna watch star wars, what do you say?"

Peter tensed (he seemed to be doing that a lot today) and glanced at the clock. It was already 10:45, which meant he would usually be going out for patrol soon. May seemed to know something was up because she asked, "What is it?"

Peter knew he should be using this time; he had to catch up with May, to try to make things normal again. But he needed to go out. He needed to be able to swing through the air, get a breath of fresh air, and, most of all, he needed to think. He needed to think about what happened today, what he _ did. _

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before answering. "Well, uh, it's kind of late, and I, uh, I was planning on going out for...patrol." His voice was barely a whisper at the end, feeling ashamed as he said it. But he needed to go out, and he had to make her understand. 

Peter anxiously watched May and saw her eyes harden. She kept calm, but Peter could tell she wasn't happy with his answer. 

"Peter, I knew I would have to bring it up eventually, but-" she sighed deeply, and her shoulders sagged. "But so soon after…"

"What do you mean, May?" Peter felt his worry rise, knowing whatever she was about to say wouldn't be good.

"I just… okay." She resigned herself to what she was thinking and looked at Peter directly in the eye. "You need to give up Spider-Man."

Peter could feel his heart hammer in his chest. A wet laugh rose in his throat, but in reality, he felt like crying. But May just continued to stare at him with a stony expression. "Wh- what?"

"Peter. Five years ago, you were on a field trip. Then, a giant spaceship attacked. I rushed home, knowing that you would have made it back, and we could be together." Her voice broke, her eyes barely holding back tears. "And you weren't there."

Peter took a step back. He didn't want to hear this.

"A-and then, I switch on the TV, and I see a video of you getting s-sucked up into that ship. And for a _ day _ , there was nothing I could do but sit and wait, knowing that you were fighting for your _ life _." The tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"And after that day was up, you know what happened? Half of the world died. I was out of my _ mind. _ I had to wait weeks- _ weeks- _ for Tony to come back. I waited _ weeks _ for Tony to show up at my door, and tell me you were _ dead _." She was sobbing at this point, only just able to force the words out.

Peter wanted to run. He wanted so badly to just turn and run out the door and never look back. But all he could do was watch May sob in front of him, knowing that he was the one who caused her pain.

He didn't run. He knew he should step forward, hug her, and tell her that everything was alright. He should say to her he was sorry, that he was here now, and he would stop being Spider-Man.

But he couldn't. Here May was, sitting in front of him. He watched the consequences of his actions take their toll, and still, he couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear. She was his only living family member, and he was betraying her.

"You know I cant."

She looked at him with a sense of desperation. "Peter, please. I had to wait five years for you, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you a second time. You've risked so much, and put yourself in danger so many times."

"None of that matters, May! There are so many people out there, so many people in danger. Especially right now, the world is in chaos. They need me. They need me so that I can bring them home, and they won't have to lose their family-"

"-as I did?" She cut in. She had stopped crying, but there was still grief in her eyes. Pain and anger. "Well, why do I- and why do you- have to give up so much? Why are _ you _ the person who has to bring them home? I know its selfish, but I don't care! I just _ need _you to be safe."

Peter didn't say anything. He couldn't. There were so many words he wished he could say, but he knew better than anyone that they would not work. There were no words to make her understand. 

To make her understand the guilt, he felt every time he couldn't save someone. To make her understand the looks of parents when he brought their children home. To make her understand the _thank you's _he'd received after walking women home.

There were no words to make her understand the sense of duty he felt. The pressure that was constantly weighing on his shoulders. 

When she looked at Spider-Man, she saw a persona. She saw something separate from Peter entirely and was asking him to completely abandon that person.

But what she didn't know was that being Spider-Man was one of the few times where he could be _ himself. _Where he could be honest about who he was and what he could do and stand up for himself. 

He couldn't abandon Spider-Man because Spider-Man was the most honest, selfless, secure part of himself. He and Spider-Man were the same, and one could not exist without the other.

But for all that he was, he couldn't find the words to make her understand.

So he turned, walked into his room, and swung out the window.


End file.
